


you light my morning sky

by arendellesfirstwinter



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: (on a list of ideal first meetings this isn't remotely near the top), F/F, Fire, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arendellesfirstwinter/pseuds/arendellesfirstwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all places for Lucy to finally meet the famed Kara Danvers, extensively bragged about by both Alex and Clark alike, she hadn’t anticipated a live fire.</p>
<p>Or that she’d be caught in the middle of it.</p>
<p>Tumblr prompt where Kara's a firefighter instead of working at Catco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you light my morning sky

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: So there is this picture of FireFighter!Kara floating around, I don't know if you've seen it. I was thinking, maybe a SuperLane fic where instead of Kara being cats assistant she's a firewoman and her and Lucy could meet though Alex or Clark. If Kara is Alien or not is up to you. I just think it would be cool. :)
> 
> So technically I may have veered just a little bit from the original prompt in just how Kara and Lucy meet, but hopefully this works just as well! I had a ton of fun with this prompt, and had to cut myself off from writing more. (Honestly still very tempted to revisit this and do some more poking around anyway. Still a one-shot for now though!)
> 
> EDIT: Yep, will definitely be adding more to this soon!

Catco has its fair share of disgruntled ex-employees, Lucy is fully aware. She’s given legal counsel against enough of them, and off-the-books, friendly advice to others. (And some not-so-friendly advice to a particular handful.)

It’s an interesting, unexpected use of her years in the JAG, though a certainly not unwelcome padding to her pockets. Definitely more than she’s made the past several years, although her recent promotion to major and her recent consultation with the DEO are no small feats.

(Her admittance to the DEO alone took enough months of clearance, even _with_ a glowing recommendation from Metropolis’ own Man of Steel; not even touching on his cousin of sorts agreeing to sponsor her through that very same connection.)

She’d come to National City lovelorn and chasing a dying romance with Jimmy Olsen, but as the months passed and their relationship floundered, her new footing in the city strengthened, both in Catco’s legal branch and in her position at the DEO, as well as new friendships formed along the way. (And when she and Jimmy - _James_ \- finally broke it off, they found their own friendship growing that much stronger.)

It’s been peaceful. It’s been good for her. For the first time in her life, Lucy feels like she’s finally broken from the shadow of her sister and her father, and she’s content in her camaraderie with James (chasing a lead halfway across the city currently) and her newfound companions Alex Danvers, Susan Vasquez, and so on. (Alex Danvers in particular is a surprising find; quick-witted and sharp-tongued about everyone equally, Lucy's respected her from the start. If only she didn’t spend even _more_ time than Clark crowing about this Kara, who might as well be National City’s equivalent of Superman for all they say of her.)

Life’s been good.

Until one of Cat Grant’s ex-employees decided to set fire to the main Catco offices.

Surprisingly, of Lucy’s expectations for the day’s events, arson was relatively low on the list.

Coughing, Lucy drops to her knees as smoke clouds above her, thick and heavy. Her throat is dry, and her eyes are burning as she inches forward. Her clothes stick to her skin, but she keeps her head low, brushes hair from her face, and grabs a nearby coworker, hauling him up by the elbow. “The stairs, _now_ ,” she barks out, every bit the Major.

He stumbles, hastily following her directions, and she snaps her attention to the next person huddled beneath their desk. Moving along, roughly grabbing arms and shouting commands, she makes her way through the floor, shoving everyone she finds towards the stairs before finally making her own way over.

The flames are still below, although the stairwells are relatively clear if the lack of panicked chatter is any indication. Lucy straightens, scanning the empty tables and upturned chairs, the papers strewn loosely around the floor and the window open in the far corner.

_The window open in the far corner._

She turns on her heel and bolts across the floor, vaulting around abandoned computers and narrowing her eyes against the hazy gray of the lingering smoke. Lucy _knows_ there are dozens of people still on floors above her, and she can hear the heavy clomps now of firefighter boots on the stairs, moving upwards, but both she and the window are out of sight from the stairs, and if she doesn’t act now, well - Lucy knows how fires spread.

And oh do they spread.

The instant she reaches the window, she hears the crackling hiss of flames just below her, and when she grabs the frame, she jerks away with a cry, her palms swollen and red. Gritting her teeth, Lucy unbuttons her shirt, shrugs it off, and wraps it around hands, biting her lip as heat sears through the cloth. With a yank, the window shuts, and she stumbles away, hissing and shutting her eyes. She takes in a deep breath on accident and hacks at the fumes. Her throat is scratchy and raw, and she wipes tears from her eyes as she takes in another shuddering, more cautious, inhalation.

By this point, she hasn’t the slightest idea how much time has passed. The sounds on the stairwell are faded, drowned out by the dull roar of the fire raging below and the throbbing in her skull and hands. She retraces her steps, staggering as she intakes more smoke. She notices vaguely that, ventilation gone, it’s starting to thicken, hanging heavy in the air as the exit becomes more and more obscured in white and gray.

Lucy reaches the stairs at last, and, trusting in National City’s fire department that the workers on the floors above are evacuated, prepares to finally make her own exit.

Only to fumble to a halt as a wall of orange and red flares before her, and heat scorches her bare skin. She drops her shirt limply to the floor and reels backwards, eyes wide.

The stairwell’s aflame, and her one exit is gone.

Blinking, Lucy stares in shock as the flames advance and her military composure retreats, leaving dumb fear and panic in its place.

Well _shit_.

She’s trapped, twenty floors up, hands burnt and skin red. She looks around helplessly, leans down to grab her shirt and throw it back on in one last futile gesture of protection as she contemplates _any_ alternative to frying to a crisp, and reaches into her pocket to shoot off a few important texts.

Until, impossibly, a figure dressed in black and gold bursts through the flames.

Lucy gapes.

Adjusting her helmet, the woman grabs Lucy in arms like steel, meets Lucy’s eyes with a determined gaze of blue, and commands quietly, “Follow my lead.”

Lucy nods, and might’ve laughed in amazement if she weren’t so short of breath as the woman neatly _lifts Lucy from the ground_. Secure in the firefighter’s grip, Lucy watches curiously as the woman worries her bottom lip and glances nervously down at Lucy.

“This might,” the woman says, looking to the stairs and the fire roaring among them, “seem a little weird. Please don’t ask me to explain.”

“Okay?” Lucy raises an eyebrow, though the expression is ruined after a moment as another cough tears through her.

“Just trust me,” the woman murmurs.

And then she wraps her arms fully around Lucy, tucks Lucy’s head against her shoulder, and surges forward at a such a sudden speed that it leaves Lucy breathless and trembling.

Lucy _feels_ the fire, full heat blazing against her skin, but it lasts, impossibly, less than a second, and when she lifts her head, stunned, they’re at the bottom of the stairs, not a singed hair out of place on the woman before her.

They were _twenty stories up_ and now they’re on the ground level, and as the woman opens up the door to the lobby and leads Lucy out, one arm slung supportively around her, Lucy is trying to blink back the disbelief and amazement at what _can’t_ have just happened, but _did._

“That’s everyone!” the woman shouts out to another older woman in similar gear before leading Lucy to a gathered group of paramedics outside. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

Before the woman can lead Lucy a step farther, Lucy grabs her shoulder. “Stop.”

The woman freezes, and an oddly guilty look flashes across her face.

“How did we get down?”

“Uh, you, um.” The woman fidgets with her gloves, adjusts her hat. “You passed out for a few minutes. And I carried you down.”

Lucy stares flatly, and the woman wilts under her glare.

“It’s uh, it’s pretty common,” the woman adds weakly.

Lucy doesn’t believe a word.

The woman is very obviously aware of this.

Heaving a sigh, the woman takes off her helmet to reveal long blonde hair dirty with ash. Soot’s streaked across her brow, and she grins sheepishly as she pulls out a pair of glasses from her pocket and unfolds them. “Any chance you can forget about all this?” She fiddles with the frames before letting them rest on the bridge of her nose.

“Let’s start with your name first, and then maybe I’ll think about it.”

The woman sticks out a gloved hand. “Kara Danvers,” she says with a crooked smile.

Lucy blinks.

And bursts into loud, uproarious laughter that racks her throat painfully and sends her keeling forward. Kara catches her, eyes wide in fear and confusion, and Lucy’s shoulders shake as she chortles.

“You’re related by _blood_ ,” Lucy coughs out, unable to keep a wide grin from spreading across her face. “You’re fucking related to Clark by _blood_.”

Tilting her head, Kara scratches the back of her neck. “You know my cousin?”

“Hey Super _girl_ ,” Lucy comments cheekily, extending her own hand, “I’m Lucy Lane.” Kara’s face alights in recognition. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like, come find me at nationalcitykara.tumblr.com!


End file.
